Bloody Hands
by rosa lunae
Summary: In the episode “Fault,” Huang said, “Every choice becomes a sacrifice.” Elliot replied, “Not true...she didn't need me.” What if Elliot had made a different choice? Oneshot.


**Summary**: In "Fault," Huang said, "Every choice becomes a sacrifice." Elliot replied, "Not true…" What if Elliot had made a different choice?

**AN: **Hi, everyone. Thought I'd jump on the bandwagon of frantically penned "Fault" stories. That episode blew me away. I can't even describe it—I do know that when it was over, my hands were shaking. I want to see where they're going with this, so as such, this is a one-shot. Maybe, after I see where the show takes this, I'll write a series—maybe not. We'll see. I've read all the "Fault" stories so far, so I wanted to see if I could give the episode a different spin. Enjoy.

-_rosa lunae_

Sacrifice

"FREEZE!"

Olivia heard herself scream the word, but focused on Gitano. Her hands shook as she tried to get a shot off, but he shoved the kids in front of him as a shield. She could hear the shouts and screams of the civilians, the whimpering little girl, but suddenly, cold metal ripped through her neck, and she was down. Her body bounced as she hit the floor, head snapping against the ground and twitching as she clutched her neck.

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Elliot had seen Olivia yank out her gun and sprint off. She must have spotted him—she would need back up, he mind screamed, but he honestly, that wasn't what put panic under his steps.

But as he rounded the corner, he heard her scream, "FREEZE!" But as the crowd cleared slightly, he saw her writhing on the ground and Gitano running off with the kids, bloody knife in hand.

"Olivia!" he yelled, shoving people to the floor. But she heard him, heard him coming.

"Elliot!" she cried, strangled, waving the bloody hand that wasn't clutching her neck. "I'm fine, go! Go after Gitano! GO!"

Her voice was fiercely alive. He stumbled for a moment, hand brushing the ground next to her, before he sprinted up the stairs after Gitano, chased by worry for her.

At the top, uniforms and plainclothesmen were swarming around in a circle. Gitano was sure to be spooked.

Running away from the swarm of cops was Gitano. He rounded the corner, and ran back down the stairs to a side exit, presumably.

Elliot moved to follow, but Fin yelled, "Forget him, Elliot! We got the kids! He saw you following him and us in front of him and spooked. Tried to finish off the boy but didn't get to."

Elliot whirled, thoughts of Gitano gone from his head. He had to see Ryan again, had to see that the boy would make it… and there they were. The boy had a bad cut on his neck, but Gitano hadn't had a chance to get the job done. They were safely trembling, surrounded by cops.

_Olivia._

Without a word, Elliot turned on his heels, and flew back down the escalator, now cleared. He ran back to where Olivia had been, to yell at her, cry on her, see her, but instead, there was a crowd around the spot, including a pair of paramedics and some cops.

"Out of my way, she's my partner!" Elliot bellowed, shoving. But there was no one—just a pool of blood. Confused, he turned to the paramedics. "Is the ambulance gone already?"

Some uniform grabbed his arm, turned him around. "She's gone, man."

Elliot yanked his arm away, paling suddenly. "What are you talking about! It was a superficial wound."

The cop shook his head. "No, I mean, she's not here. Your perp grabbed her off the ground, and took off. Some of my guys ran after him, and more cars are on the way, trying to block the street."

_Oh, god. The blood. Gitano saw her blood._

"WHICH WAY."

The officer pointed; Elliot sprinted. He remembered to scream some kind of frantic thing into his radio to Fin and the others as he ran, but didn't listen to their static-run replies.

He saw a huddle of police cars and a thick circle of armed officers. He shoved his way through, badge first. He burst through the surface of bodies, and found himself face to face with Gitano, who had an iron grip on his woozy partner.

The cut was deeper than he remembered. Olivia's blood was all over Gitano's hands. Elliot drew his own gun and leveled it perfectly between Gitano's eyes. He felt the gun tremble under the weight of his rage and fear.

"Let her go, Gitano. You're through. We got the kids, and we got you. Let her go."

She was losing too much blood. Her olive skin was now sickly sallow, her eyelids heavy. She sagged reluctantly against Gitano, vaguely feeling the knife at her back.

"Shoot him, Elliot…" The voice was haggard; he barely recognized it. His eyes widened, locking eyes with his partner while she still had them open. "Shoot him!"

"I said LET HER GO." Elliot cocked the weapon, but now the tremble was violent. He would surely miss his mark.

"Shoot him, Elliot!" came the whisper again. Olivia's weary body was now deadweight against Gitano, and he let her fall to the ground. At that moment, a shot rang out, and Elliot dove to the ground next to his partner, shoving his jacket into a ball and against her neck. His gun clattered to the ground beside her, cold and still poised.

She was wheezing softly, eyes half-open. He took her hand, unaware of his own tears, unaware of the blood weakly soaking his jacket.

He touched her cheek, trying not to flinch at the approaching coldness. The paramedics were approaching now, he knew, but…

"El…" Her voice was soft, raspy but still feminine. "Do we really have the kids?"

He tried to smile for her, through his agony. She wondered if he had bluffed to Gitano. "Yeah, Liv. We really do."

"Good…" she whispered, closing her eyes. "El." A last try.

"Yeah, Liv…" Her nickname became a sob.

"I wouldn't have shot him… either…" she breathed, then was still.

For a moment, Elliot closed his eyes, letting the tears fall, feeling all security and hope and faith crumbling around him. He opened his eyes, and found his free hand. The other still clutched Olivia's fingers, still squeezed infutiledesperation.

He'd stumbled, right there beside her, when it happened. He remembered his hand brushing the ground next to her to keep his balance. Her blood was on his hand.

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_Man. Aren't you glad the episode didn't end this way! I had to write this to show myself that the ending of "Fault" could have been much worse. "Every choice becomes a sacrifice."_

_In the case of "Fault," I think the right choices were made. Let's just see where they take us, okay?_

_Thanks for reading._

_-rosa_


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